


Habits

by Calchexxis



Series: Saintsbride [2]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Adeptus Sororitas - Freeform, Date Night, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Inquisitorial assets, Lesbian Sex, Lesbians in Space, POV Lesbian Character, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sex, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Way More Plot Than Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22226095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calchexxis/pseuds/Calchexxis
Summary: After the attack on the Cardinal Tower, Inquisitor Greyfax finds herself frustrated by the lack of true progress in the case, and is reduced to reacting rather than hunting her quarry. In the midst of it all, the Inquisitor must also face to the fact that she is worried about Saint Celestine, a worry that reared its head forcefully when the Saint plunged into the Tower alone to rescue the High Ecclesiarch from danger. Although Celestine was victorious and unharmed, as Katarinya knew she would be, the fear she felt brought the Inquisitor's mind around to the idea of lost opportunities, and with a lull in the case and naught to do but wait for information, Katarinya opts to take a chance.
Relationships: Inquisitor Katarinya Greyfax/Saint Celestine
Series: Saintsbride [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599868
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	1. Relapse

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place partway through Chapter 2 of 'Our Martyred Lady', after the attack on the Cardinal Tower on the Cardinal World of Ophelia VII.

My power-armored fingers rattled out an irritated tattoo against the low, fabricated desk I’d been using since the attack on the Cardinal Tower of Ophelia VII.

The nature of this conspiracy, whatever it was, still eluded me, and that rankled. It made no sense to continue the attacks on Deacis since he rescinded the Decree Passive, if indeed stopping his rescinding of the Decree was the purpose of the attacks at all.

More and more that appeared to not be the case.

I could think of no reason for these attacks now beyond inflicting general chaos on the Imperium, and that was obnoxious but not apocalyptic.

That could not possibly be the purpose, though. These conspirators had far too many resources at their disposal to be satisfied with merely fomenting unrest.

But that was secondary for the moment, and all merely idle supposition. Without gathering more intelligence I could not make any firm conclusions and that meant I was merely worrying at a bone like a bored hound.

I had another purpose this afternoon.

“Katarinya?”

Celestine’s voice came softly from the other side of the door.

“Come in, Sister,” I replied, pushing away the dataslate I’d been perusing.

Celestine pushed the door open and stepped inside the makeshift office I’d commandeered. It was part of an Ecclesiarchal chapel, technically, but it was securely positioned and I had swept for vox-thieves this morning, and again this afternoon.

“You wished to see me?” Celestine stood at attention, her black and crimson power armor was still scuffed and scored from her violent ingress into the tower to rescue Deacis and Kyrilos. 

I nodded. “I wanted to congratulate you on your attack on the tower… once again, you spirited Deacis out of harm's way.”

She smiled, and I stood from my seat to move around the desk to her side.

“I did my duty to the God-Emperor, Katarinya, nothing more,” Celestine spoke with such surety, and I sighed.

“This room is secure,” I began, and she raised a questioning eyebrow at my seeming non sequitur. “So with that being the case,” I let out a shaky sigh, sagged in place, and reached out to grip her by the pauldrons. “Celly, I would _deeply _appreciate you taking more… care.”__

____

____

Celestine’s eyes widened for a moment, then she let out a quiet sigh of her own.

“Our duties must come first, Katta,” She said quietly. “I am a soldier of the God-Emperor, and I will stride into the fires of damnation itself if he so directs me.”

“I know,” I croaked the words out, and hated that they came so painfully. “I… I know, Celestine, and even though I knew you would be safe, that you were only going against base seditionists, I knew fear for a moment.”

I lifted my hands from her shoulders and reached up to lay my armored palms on her cheeks, gently stroking the line of her cheekbone with my thumb.

“You said-” Celestine began, and I silenced her with a glare.

“I’m aware of what I said,” I hissed, “so forgive me if I cannot help myself for now!” 

I leaned up as I pulled her down to me, and pressed my lips to hers hungrily. 

It had been weeks, several weeks in fact, since our tryst aboard the Custodes vessel, and I had tried to keep our relationship as distant and professional as it ought to remain since then. It even worked for a time, between the constant calls of our separate roles and our continued disagreement over the Ecclesiarch’s decision, it hadn’t even been terribly difficult.

Seeing her soar into danger, though, had been jarring and nothing at all like the attack we’d suffered on the orbital station.

That time I had been with her. We had been attacked together and we had fought together, side by side, watching one another’s backs.

This time she had been alone, and that sat poorly with me.

Even armored, I felt her gauntleted hands take a grip on my hips to drag me a few inches closer as our lips met again and again.

“Katta,” Celestine’s voice was husky and low, “we should not… there are others…”

“The door,” I cut myself off with a kiss before continuing, “is sealed and locked,” another kiss, “by Inquisitiorial authority…”

I pulled back to stare into those beautiful green eyes of hers.

“We are safe, Celly,” I assured her before leaning in to capture her lips again.

She returned the affection vigorously, and with tongue. Celestine indulged me for several more minutes before I finally pulled back, panting and flushed.

“I find myself torn, Saint Celestine,” I said stiffly, and she raised an eyebrow as I trailed my fingers down her breastplate. “Your holy wargear has, time and again, stood between you and certain death.”

“It has,” she agreed with a small smile.

“And I honor the machine spirit for its diligence, but,” I curled my fingers into claws and scraped them down her chest again, “now they stand between you and I and that is infuriating.”

“We are vulnerable here, Katta,” Celestine admonished me quietly. “The attacks are seemingly random, we cannot know when or where the next one will strike.”

“I am aware of security protocols, Celly,” I grumbled as I stepped back from her. “I’m simply frustrated.”

“There will be another time, Katta,” Celestine’s tone was certain, but I was not so sanguine.

Turning my back on her and flipping over the slate I had been reading at my desk, I bit my lip as I mulled over what I was about to do. Certainly, it was a gross misuse of resources, but only in the most technical sense. At the same time, I could easily justify it if called to task over my decision.

“There is… an Inquisitorial safehouse nearby,” I began tentatively, and I could practically hear Celestine cock her head curiously at my statement. “It has not been used in several years, though.”

“Is it important?” Celestine asked, and I shook my head.

“No, it’s just a bolt hole maintained by the Ordo Hereticus for Inquisitors to use in case of emergency,” I replied, waving my hand. “But it has not been properly inventoried in all this time and I thought, perhaps you… you might…”

Frak.

This should not be this hard.

“Katta?”

“I wondered if perhaps you would help me… inventory it this evening,” I forced the words out, staring down at the desk and pointedly away from Celestine. “There are supposedly some excellent rations stored there that we could share for dinner.”

Silence stretched out for a moment.

“Katarinya Greyfax, are you asking me…?” Celestine’s tone was conversationally amused.

“Yes or no, Celestine,” I bit the words out, and her chiming laughter sounded behind me.

“Yes, I think taking inventory of…” I felt her hands slide back across my waist and down my hips, “Inquisitorial assets… would be a perfectly agreeable way to spend an evening.”

I nearly choked.

“How exactly did _you _end up as a Saint?” I rasped, whirling in place to face her as she laughed again.__

____

____

“Well,” she answered, still chortling, “I was elevated and canonised when I was among the Sisters Repentia, make of that what you will.”

It was utterly _infuriating _how easily it was for Celestine to make me blush. I was an Inquisitor, a Witch Hunter, and held more authority in a single breath than most Imperial citizens would hold for their entire lives. I could order a High Lord of Terra to the gaol of the Golden Palace on my word alone, and yet Celestine could make me feel like I was still a schola Scion cadet nervously trying to work up the courage to speak to that terribly attractive Sororitas Initiate on the other side of the scrumball pitch.__

____

____

Hm… maybe I _do _have a type.__

____

____

“I’ll see you tonight, Katta,” Celestine leaned in and pressed a warm kiss against my cheek, “be safe.”

“You as well, Celly,” I replied, my tone much softer now. “I’ll send you a private databurst with the coordinates and access rites in an hour.”

“It is, as they say, a date,” Celestine confirmed, and I very nearly bit through my lip as she unlocked the door and stepped demurely out of my office.

No one in the Ministorum, or even in my own Ordo, would believe me if I told them what an imp our current Living Saint truly was.


	2. Risk Factors

This was probably a terrible idea if I’m being fully honest with myself.

I ran my fingers through my hair again and scowled. I had never really had the time, effort, energy, or inclination to care about my appearance beyond the bare necessities required of Inquisitorial functions like Tribunals or the rarer Conclaves. Beyond looking as intimidating as possible, which is more for the sake of facilitating my role as an Inquisitor than anything else, I never concerned myself overmuch with my looks.

My hair fell down straight around my face. I’d tried to put it up into something like a high tail, then a bun, then gave up on the matter and left my brown locks to frame a face that was all straight lines, save where scars marred the skin.

A fellow Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos by the name of Costello once remarked that if an armourer were to reach for a notched blade and grabbed me by the face instead, they could be forgiven for such was the likeness.

I’d kicked him rather hard for that.

Partially because he was not wrong.

Despite coming up on my first century of life, juvenat treatments had kept me at a usefully ambiguous ‘mid-thirties’. I preferred to be forgettable during infiltrations and stakeouts, but now I wonder. On my vainest days I considered myself to be favorably austere, even dignified, but not beautiful.

Never beautiful.

Not like Celestine.

“This is ridiculous,” I turned away from the mirror in the safehouse’s washroom and stalked back out into the small conference room.

The table in the room could extend or shorten based on the needs of the occupant, and I’d chosen to collapse it to its smallest size, which was suitable for two people to eat a meal comfortably at, and the meal itself was currently on a warming plate in the center of the table.

Grox steak and mint sauce, some off-planet vegetables I’d never tried but certainly smelled appetizing, and a bottle of Alestinian Red that was opened for breathing.

And me.

Oh yes, this certainly wasn’t a disaster in the making… _what was I thinking? ___

____

____

“I should call this off,” I grimaced as I pulled out my vox, if I did it quickly perhaps-

A knock came at the door of the safehouse, two, one, and three knocks in sequence, and I sighed in defeat as I tucked my vox back into my pocket. She was already here, and I couldn’t very well just keep her locked out or pretend I’m not inside.

At least, I can’t do so and still look her in the eye tomorrow.

“I wonder if Abaddon is free for a second round,” I grumbled in irritation at my own nerves.

Somehow, the prospect of dinner with Celestine, however circumspect, was more intimidating than crossing blades with The Despoiler.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped around the table, crossed the small room, and punched in the second of the two-part access code for the bolt hole, releasing the lock and cracking the door open.

Celestine pushed it gently open the rest of the way and smiled at me from beneath a clean, white, hooded robe. Her dark hair was combed and washed, and her green eyes sparkled with mischief as she stepped past me and into the safehouse, and I got a faint whiff of some subtly sweet herbal aroma.

“Good evening, Katta,” Celestine’s hand slid across my shoulder for a moment before she was past me. “Whatever that is, it smells wonderful.”

“I… y-yes,” I pushed the door closed clumsily, my eyes still fixed on her.

I wasn’t even aware Celestine _owned _a gown.__

____

____

For myself, I had put together an outfit that was really just the majority of my Ordo formalwear for those rare instances it was required. A pressed white blouse embossed with the curving symbols of my Ordo, and dark, embroidered trousers that terminated inside knee-high laced boots. There was more to the outfit but it was all outerwear that would have been shed in a dinner situation anyway, so I’d left it packed.

“You look quite handsome,” Celestine grinned at the flush that worked its way up my neck to my cheeks.

“And you look…” I looked up and down her form, and swallowed, “very beautiful tonight.”

“All Sisters of the Sororitas are required to own a gown, or dress suit and accompanying robes, for specific Ministorum functions,” Celestine explained, gesturing down to the pale cream gown. It was woven with delicate embroidery depicting the symbols of her Order of the Martyred Lady, and the names of past Saints. “Although, I have never actually had occasion to wear mine before now.”

“I’m flattered,” I replied dryly as I shut the door and moved to her side, pulling her chair out for her.

“How gallant,” Celestine quipped, drawing another blush to my cheeks.

“You’re intolerable,” I started to move away, but she caught me by the hand and pulled me back gently.

“Katta,” her voice was soft and insistent, and I turned in time for her to press her lips to mine as she drew me closer.

She ran her fingers through my hair, tangling those slightly scarred digits into loose brown strands that I knew were probably more dry and frayed than I would have liked. I had never cared before, but tonight I did, and the fact of that probably should not have annoyed me as much as it did.

Rather than let it show, I did my best to let go as I relaxed against her, then sighed as we parted.

“My apologies, Katta,” Celestine said with a small smile. “I’ve grown somewhat used to teasing you, and I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“You think I have?” I grumbled, then took a breath and rested my head against her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Celly, I’m just…”

“I know,” she rested her hand on my back, sliding it up and down calmingly along my spine. “Let’s have dinner then, shall we?”

I took a seat, and I marveled a little at how different she seemed tonight. I tried to put the two together, this Celestine in her flowing gown with that quirked, mischievous smile, and the one in power armor with wings of light who bodily crashed through the wall of a tower bellowing her devotion to Him On Earth.

Celestine, for all her claims of being just a soldier, was far more than that.

Lifting the lid of the warming plate, I doled out the portions before taking my seat across from her, and she began delicately cutting apart the steak with fork and knife.

“You know,” I began with a small laugh as a stray thought crossed my mind, “had someone told me that there existed a Living Saint who enjoyed teasing people, I probably would have had them sectioned for instability.”

“I’ve lived my life on the battlefield, Katta,” Celestine pointed out, gesturing with her fork before spearing a slice of Grox. “One must have a sense of humor to stay sane… believe it or not, most of my Sisters do, we simply do not show it to outsiders in order to maintain our decorum, it’s much the same in any given guard regiment, I think.”

“That is far less the case with my brethren,” I admitted, tucking into my own meal. “They are a singularly humorless bunch.”

“So I’ve noticed,” She replied, and I snapped a glare up at her only to find her smirking from across the table at me before taking a bite of steak and chewing slowly.

Smiling all the while.

“You’re never going to stop that, are you?” I asked wearily, realising she’d just gotten me again.

“Would you want me to?” Celestine asked after swallowing. “Truthfully, Katta.”

“I…” I paused, staring down at my meal before sighing quietly and looking away. “No… no, I don’t think I would, and that’s a bit galling to admit.”

“I enjoy teasing you, Katta,” Celestine said pointedly, then chuckled. “And I think you enjoy having someone who does not take you so seriously that they choke on every other word.”

“Turnabout is fair play?” I asked with a dry smile, and Celestine laughed.

Such a lovely laugh.

I poured us both a glass of wine and we continued in companionable silence for a time, eating what turned out to be a fairly decent Grox steak, while the vegetables tasted like they were reasonably fresh despite their preservation.

To my surprise, Celestine displayed a high quality of table manners. I’d dined with Imperial Guard regiments in mess halls and planetary governors in their ancestral estates, and I would have expected Celestine to belong more with the former than the latter.

As I considered that, I wracked my brain for a new topic, preferably something that did not have to do with the conspiracy. It seemed to be all we ever spoke of when we crossed paths lately, and I didn’t want to bring that mood here to our…

Our… whatever this was.

Well the grox is good, at least.

“You were raised in the Schola Progenium, weren’t you?” Celestine chimed in suddenly, and I coughed around a mouthful of wine before swallowing quickly and nodding.

“I… yes, I was, as were you I believe,” I replied, my voice a bit raw. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” she twirled her fork like a baton between her fingers, “I’m sure it’s quite obvious what programme I was enrolled under,” she gestured to her order and preceptory marks, and the stylised fleur de lis of the Sororitas, “but what of you?”

“I was first raised as a cadet of the Tempestus Scions for my marksmanship and combat rankings,” I replied, feeling a little more comfortable on this topic.

“Stormtrooper?” Celestine’s voice was light and she smiled. “No, actually I can see it… so what changed?”

“My power,” I gestured to my temples. “It turned out my marksmanship was as much true skill as it was preternaturally sensing my targets regardless of their cover.”

“Then you were taken into the Ordos,” Celestine stated more than asked.

“Inquisitor Mykkael Walkingstick saw my potential and took me on as an acolyte and, eventually, his Interrogator,” I pushed my vegetables around idly around my plate as I thought about my old master. “He was a very odd old coot, actually… a Thorian and an idealistic moderate where I was a hardline Monodominant, he and I argued constantly.”

“He was a moderate taking in a psyker Stormtrooper cadet,” Celestine chuckled. “I presume he knew what he was doing.”

“I’m not sure that old man ever knew what he was doing and wasn’t just very, very lucky,” I replied with a dry laugh. “But… I owe him a great deal, and he made me the woman I am.”

“Then I owe him a great deal as well,” Celestine replied fondly, and this time I didn’t just blush.

I smiled.

It was more than just a smile, the expression reached deeper inside me than I was used to. I didn’t just smile, I smiled and actually meant it, and that is saying something for an Inquisitor of my breed.

The smile faded a moment later as I reflected on precisely who I was smiling at. All of a sudden a tightness slipped unbidden through my chest and wrapped around my heart. 

“Katta?” Celestine’s voice colored with concern.

“What… what are we doing, Celestine?” I laid my knife and fork down with a dull clink. “This, whatever this is, it can’t last! I must truly be going _mad! _”__

____

____

Celestine’s face fell, and before I could continue she was out of her seat and at my side. I tried to swat her away as I stood clumsily from my chair, but my heart wasn’t in it.

It couldn’t be.

Not with Celestine.

She took me in her arms and pulled me close, and against my better judgment I stayed there.

“Naught but the God-Emperor’s grace lasts, Katta,” Celestine whispered softly, and I stiffened in her embrace. “Even I shall one day pass through the gates of death for a final time, but that does not mean I do not wish to seek happiness before that happens.”

“I am betraying everything with this,” I felt fragile, brittle, and I absolutely hated it. I think if it was anyone but Celestine in the room with me I may have lashed out.

“You are betraying nothing, Katta,” Celestine insisted, but I shook my head.

“You don’t understand, Celly!” I gripped her by the collar of her gown. “You don’t understand how _precious _you’re becoming to me!”__

____

____

She stared at me, her jaw hanging open at my declaration, but I wasn’t finished.

“I am an _Inquisitor _, Celestine,” I hissed, “I bear power and authority second to the Golden Throne itself. I could declare a High Lord of Terra as _Excommunicatus Traitoris _without trial, I could order a Hive World put to the flames of Exterminatus and sign the death warrant of ten billion souls,” tears were streaming down my face now as my breathing came harshly, “and I am afraid, Celestine… I am afraid of what I would do for you… what I would do to safeguard you.”____

_____ _

_____ _

“I do not need to be kept, Katarinya,” Celestine said harshly.

“Don’t you think I know that?!” I snarled the words out, and Celestine recoiled, sending a fresh surge of shame through me. “Celestine, please, I… I’m sorry,” I took several calming breaths before reaching out to her, and after a moment she reached back, twining her fingers with mine. “What I fear, Celestine, is that were it to come between the sanctity of my office and Ordo, and you, that I would choose _you _.”__

____

____

Celestine’s eyes widened fractionally, then her cheeks colored. It is a rare thing for me to be the one to make Celestine blush, but I had to admit that even in the tumult of emotions I was feeling, it was still a little gratifying to see that I could do it.

“What will you do then?” Celestine’s voice was warm as she wiped away my tears with her palm. “Push me away and pretend we never laid together? Would you cut me out of your heart like a cancer?”

The very notion dropped a ball of black ice into my stomach.

“Never,” I whispered the word as much to myself as to her.

“Then we have already crossed the point of no return,” Celestine stepped closer, encircling me with arms once more, “wouldn’t you say?”

Damn her.

I felt my heart, usually so cold and guarded, warm as it thundered in my ears. The worst of it was that Celestine wasn’t wrong, we were well past the point of no return and in the end I fear I’m just fooling myself. I can step back from this, whatever this is, no more than I can step back from the weight of my calling.

“I suppose we have,” I replied finally, then ran my fingers down the buttons of my blouse, pulling them apart as I leaned up to taste her lips.

Celestine indulged me again… she always would, I think. For all her teasing, wry smiles, and penchant taking her amusements out on me, I have this insistent notion that Celestine is even worse at saying no to me than I am with her.

“What about dinner?” Celestine asked as we parted, and this time it was my turn to smirk.

“Dinner?” I stroked her cheek gently before leaning in and nipping at her neck. “I’m about to have mine.”

If there is a better feeling than having Celestine shiver under my hands, I’m not sure I even want to know what it is.


	3. Addiction

The safehouse had more than one bedroom, but the finest one was reserved for the Inquisitor who would be using it.

It occurred to me as Celestine blindly shouldered the door to the master bedroom open while carrying me, her hands gripping my rear as I locked my legs around her waist while we kissed furiously, that I should probably have it cleaned after we were finished.

We stumbled gracelessly into the room, and Celestine kicked the door shut before dropping me onto the bed and pulling her gown off as quickly as humanly possible without tearing it. I was cursing viciously as I did my best to yank and pull at my boots, and wondered _what _I could have been thinking wearing those to dinner.__

____

____

Likely it had just been me fooling myself about how this night would end.

Celestine and I both knew we’d be waking up in the same bed tomorrow morning, but I suspect that Celestine was the only one who came into this willing to admit it.

No sooner had I managed to get my left and last boot off than Celestine was in front of me, pressing me down to the mattress with both hands and lips, and let her bear me down. Her weight was a comfort, and it set a fire in my belly that quickly moved much lower as I reached out to trail my fingers along the now-familiar curves of muscle that made up her broad back and shoulders.

I let my fingers linger across every rough scar and blemish, savoring the feel of her as Celestine finished pulling off my blouse, then began working her fingers into the waistband of my trousers.

“This would have been easier if you’d worn a dress too,” Celestine chided me playfully as she tugged my legs free and threw the offending article to the side. “I could’ve just pulled it right off.”

“I’ve not worn a dress in my life,” I replied acidly, locking my bare legs around Celestine’s waist and jerking her tightly against me, “and I do not intend to start now.”

I slid my fingers through her soft, black locks and gripped as I pulled her into another kiss, and Celestine replied by gathering me up in her arms and leveraging her greater mass to roll us both fully onto the bed. I writhed against her, both eager and willing as I came to rest beneath her again, my hair splayed wildly out around my head as she stared down from above me with lidded eyes and a curving smile.

“Good evening, Inquisitor,” she said breathily, staring into my eyes with mischief on her lips.

I pressed my own lips to a thin, long-suffering line.

“Saint Celestine,” I responded dryly.

Her hands moved to my wrists and pinned them to the bed, and a shudder ran through me as I struggled reflexively, but found no give in her iron grasp.

“It seems I have the advantage,” Celestine laughed, rolled her hips, and slid the wet heat of her sex against mine.

A low moan was pulled out of my chest, and I shivered as I bucked my hips in reply.

“Celestine…” my voice was a heated whisper now.

She lowered her mouth down to trace her lips across the hollow of my throat, and along my clavicle, then up the side of my neck where I’m certain she could feel my pulse racing with the sensitive skin of her lips.

“Tell me what you want, Inquisitor,” she _never _used my title, and somehow that made the usage of it here seem almost thrilling.__

____

____

“You,” I replied breathlessly, “I want you… I _always _want you.”__

____

____

Celestine pressed her face to the side of my neck, and I felt as much as heard her take a long, slow breath. The act sent a strange thrill through my limbs, and I thought suddenly of being scented by a predator.

“As you say, Inquisitor,” Celestine breathed, and began kissing down the length of my neck, across my chest, the cusp of my navel.

I very nearly curled in on myself then. I had so many scars, but there was a particularly brutal one there. Scars were never something I’d concerned myself with, and I wore the ones on my body with pride in almost every situation imaginable.

But here, I was… self-conscious.

I think it’s because, for the first time in my life, I wanted to be beautiful, and not for the sake of vanity, but for the sake of Celestine.

Celestine, of course, didn’t care. She brushed her lips along the scar with as much warmth and attention as she did anywhere else before moving on down lower, ever lower, until I felt her lips caress my inner thigh.

“Relax,” Celestine said gently, “and let me have you.”

I shuddered, nodded, and wove my fingers into the hair on her crown, pressing her closer until her lips were on me, and her tongue sliding along the sensitive folds. Her fingers worked gently inside of me with the same careful slowness she had showed me on our first night together.

Small cries of pleasure escaped my lips every time she moved, every time her tongue slid across my sensitive hood and pressed down to send shockwaves of electric delight through my limbs. Celestine’s fingers traced patterns inside me, working me closer and closer to climax until I let out a sharp cry, and my legs clenched reflexively around her head, obeying that primal instinct to seek pleasure and draw it closer.

And then it was gone, and with it went all the tension in my body as I fell slack against the bed. I barely had the energy to look down my body at Celestine who was slowly rising from where she had been crouched between my legs.

My breath caught my throat as I saw the slick wetness dripping from her lips and down her chin, and the viridian storm behind those gleaming eyes as she licked her lips before crawling up and over me until she was filling the entirety of my vision.

“Celestine,” I whispered her name softly as I reached up and ran my fingers over her cheek. “I… I am lost.”

“You are not lost, Katta,” Celestine assured me as she curled around me, pressing her lips to mine, and I tasted the curious flavor of her lips mixed with myself, and found it… agreeable. “You are here, with me,” she said as we parted, “as you will always be.”

“Why does it feel like I am falling?” I pleaded quietly, “why does it feel as though everything is falling away from me?”

“It is faith, Katta,” Celestine brushes her lips over my cheek. “Faith that, though you are falling, you will be caught and carried.”

“By the God-Emperor?” I asked with a brittle laugh, but Celestine shook her head.

“By me,” she replied. “As I know that it is you who shall always catch me.”

And I would.

Celestine was right about that much, hadn’t I even admitted to being afraid of it?

How fearful I was of the lengths I might go to in order to catch her was a range of emotions I had never, even in my long life, been forced to deal with. Always I had kept a distance, always I had stood above and apart the rest, all in the name of the Imperium and the Ordo to whom I had sworn my life and death.

Now, I fear I have glimpsed the steps of a dangerous path. A path that would grow more visible the more dangers that Celestine and I faced, and one that could lead the name of Greyfax to join names like Quixos, Valeria, and Eisenhorn in the ranks of the Radical and the Heretic.

All for the woman beside me.

I put a hand to Celestine’s shoulder and slowly pressed until she allowed me to reverse our positions. I stared down at the gorgeous saint beneath me, her black hair pooled like a halo of ink around her smiling face, and bare skin toned with powerful muscle forged in endless training and equally endless wars.

My mouth was suddenly quite dry, and I licked my lips as I lowered myself to kiss along her broad shoulders, which had so often borne the weight of the Imperium. I slid my hands beneath her to trace my fingers along the wide back that had taken the lion’s share of my demands and expectations, and always without a word of complaint.

This was a body worth worshipping, and I did so with delight.

Celestine breathed in small gasps as I drew my fingernails gently across her skin, pressing my lips to every curve of muscle, onto every single scar, and mentally damning each and every claw and bolt that had dared to mar something so beautiful.

“Katta…” Celestine’s palm came to rest on my head, her fingers tangling into my hair as she stroked my head with care. “My Katta…”

That sent a shiver down my spine, in part because I knew just how true it was. I was hers, now, more than I belonged to the Imperium or to the Ordo Hereticus or even, forgive me, the God-Emperor himself.

I was Celestine’s.

Finally, I found my way between her legs and pressed my mouth to her core, letting out a soft moan at the flavor of her. I had tasted her once before, weeks ago during our first and, until now, only night together. Since then I must shamefully admit I had thought of her often, and of the way she tasted.

Salty, faintly sweet, and addictively strong.

I tried to do for her as she did for me, pressing my tongue to her and slipping fingers inside, trying to find those sensitive places I’d touched last time. Once more, I must have been doing something right, because Celestine’s voice raised to a clarion cry as she writhed beneath me.

“Katta… my love...”

I very nearly froze at those words.

At _that _word.__

____

____

It was the word that I’d been avoiding, even in my own mind, and one that I think Celestine too had been avoiding saying. I had tried to press it deep into the back of my psyche, locking it away in a place where no one would ever find it, least of all me. I had caged the word up with bars of fear and duty and oaths made beneath the sign of the Aquila, and told myself that there was nothing there, and that even if there were that it could never be.

Love.

I _loved _Celestine.__

____

____

Passion eclipsed my mind as I let myself feel it, if only for tonight, and oh, what a pitiful lie that was. Just as it had not been the one time aboard the Custodes vessel, it would never be enough to feel it just once. It could never _just _be for tonight.__

____

____

I gripped Celestine’s thighs with both arms, working her legs over my shoulders and leaning forward as I pressed my mouth against her dripping sex, deeper and more furiously than before.

Celestine gasped and jerked in surprise at my sudden change, and her clear voice echoed around the room as she rolled her hips against me and locked her fingers into my hair, pressing me harder and deeper until she shuddered to her own end, and warm liquid splashed across my mouth and chin; a reward for my hard work that I lapped at hungrily.

Paying no mind to her dulcet groans, I continued to lick gently and insistently, determined to bring Celestine down from where she had flown as slowly and as pleasurably as possible. 

I continued to drag my tongue up and down the folds of her sex, relishing the quiet whimpers that Celestine was making; noises that I could hardly ascribe to such a powerful figure like her, and ones that she would only ever let me hear.

Eventually, once she was little more than putty, I moved up and along her body, laying kisses along the smooth curves of muscle and knots of scars, before finally settling into her arms. She wrapped herself around me, the way she had on our first passionate night, pulling the sheets and blankets of the bed over us to ward off the chill of Ophelian stone, and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

We lay there, silent and comfortable, with my hands trailing up and down her back, and her hands caressing what I happen to know is her favorite place along the hollow of my waist to my hips.

I’m not even sure how long we laid there, and frankly I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want the morning to come, because when it did we would have to wake, and wash, and step outside into the gray dawn of Ophelia VII, and become ‘Inquisitor Katarinya Greyfax’ and ‘Saint Celestine of Our Martyred Lady’ again.

“I’m sorry,” Celestine said softly after a long silence.

“For what?” I asked, not looking up as I played my finger back and forth along the smooth line of her clavicle.

“I said it, Katta,” she replied in a hushed tone. “I got caught up and I said it, and I ought not to have.”

Most probably she was right, but that was neither here nor there. I didn’t strictly regret her saying it either, but objectively speaking this kind of liaison was complicated enough without bringing something like… like _that _into it.__

____

____

“Do you hate me?” Celestine shifted, and I could feel her eyes on me, so I shook my head.

“Never,” I lifted my eyes to hers, admiring that lovely shade of green once more, and knew I would never stop wanting to look at her like this. “I can never hate you, Celestine.”

She relaxed in my arms, and I laid another gentle kiss against the hollow of her neck.

“I will say it again, if you don’t stop me,” Celestine’s voice came out almost strained, the most tense I think I’d heard it in a very long time, and I knew she wasn’t exaggerating… 

She would say it again if I said nothing.

So I said nothing.

“I love you, Katta,” her voice was still tight.

I knew what she wanted to hear, but my throat was too tight to say it. Every time I tried, something choked it back, until finally I sighed quietly and asked another question that was burning in my mind.

“When did you know?”

Celestine laughed, it was a small, slightly croaky sound, and she played her fingers through my hair, stroking down the length of it as she hummed thoughtfully. 

“Would you like the alarming truth?” She replied finally, “or a pleasant lie?”

“I deal in pleasant lies as a day job,” I said with a dry chuckle. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer the truth when it’s just us.”

“As I lay helpless on the scarred earth of Cadia,” Celestine began, and my eyes widened, “with those xenos pylons humming hatefully around me, blinding and deafening me to His light, and the Arch-Heretic Abaddon towering over me, I swore to him I would free all of mankind from his Ruinous masters.” She shook her head with a faint echo of laughter. “And he said to me that there was no such thing as freedom and, briefly, I saw in his ancient eyes, all of his years of shackled servitude, first to the God-Emperor, then to Horus, then to the Dark Gods, and in that moment, in the face of that ancient horror, I felt despair encroach upon my heart.”

When she looked down at me, Celestine’s eyes were lit with fervor and beauty, and I felt my breath catch in my lungs as she laid a scarred palm over my cheek with the gentlest of touches.

“And then I saw her,” Celestine smiled radiantly. “I saw a woman who was ragged, furious, and _righteous _, burning with the corpusent light of the Empyrean as she denied the technology of the alien, and denied the faithless words of the heretic,” her voice was so bright that I could hardly stand it, but I felt my heart swell. “And then I watched in awe as she cast her shining soul into the mind of a ten-thousand year old genhanced tyrant, staggering him and preserving my life against impossible odds.”__

____

____

“Celestine that…” I wanted to deny it, but Celestine had never been less than utterly honest, and after all, who was I to tell her what her heart said?

“I have loved you, Katta,” Celestine said finally, “from the moment I first saw you on that doomed world.”

She pulled me close, pressing her lips to mine again, and I melted against her. The curve of her lips and the way she felt under my hands when we laid together was becoming as familiar to me as my own body.

We had hardly parted when even that distance became too much, and I pulled myself close to bury my face against her neck, breathing deeply of our mingled scents and trying to fix it in my mind forever, or at least until the next time we could steal a moment from the galaxy to be together again. I stayed there for several moments, just breathing, until finally Celestine broke the silence with a concerned word.

“Katta?”

I sighed quietly, pulling back and looking up at her.

“Have you ever been to the Mandelas System?” I asked, and she quirked an eyebrow up curiously.

“I… have not,” Celestine answered slowly, and I could see her trying to find a place for this sudden and new line of conversation. “Is it important?”

“No,” I shook my head and chuckled wryly. “In fact, it’s the definition of a backwater, on the eastern rimward edge of the Ultima Segmentum, with only one habitable planet, the Agriworld of Mandelas II which is roughly half again the size of earth, but lacking any dense materials making it worthless for mining,” I recalled the statistics I’d memorised all those years ago. “It has a sparse population, lacks even a single good warp route to it necessitating months of sublight travel to reach it, has only a single spaceport that’s barely worth the name, and no major cities, with the inhabitants mostly living on large, scattered plantations to manage the vast farmlands.”

Celestine regarded me wryly as I recited the figures.

“It could feed a whole system by itself, except, without a stable warp route, shipments would be impossible,” I had to stifle a laugh as I recalled my own reactions to the world, “and in fact, the only thing notable about the place at all is that, as far as anyone can tell, nothing notable has ever happened in that entire system during the whole course of creation.”

“That’s possible?” Celestine asked giving me an incredulous stare.

“Apparently,” I replied with a laugh. “I went there as an acolyte with Inquisitor Walkingstick to investigate an odd warp phenomena, a permanent doldrum in the warp, which is essentially a placid part of the Sea of Souls, but they’re normally random and quickly fade.”

“How odd,” Celestine looked thoughtful for a moment, then frowned. “A doldrum… that seems dangerous, if it’s like a becalmed part of the sea, then-”

“Then there are no tides to ride to escape it,” I confirmed, “and my Master theorised that it might be a piece of ancient xenotech or archeotech forcing the becalming of the Warp.”

“But there wasn’t?” Celestine asked, and I nodded.

“There wasn’t… just a lot of grox, manure, and boredom,” I pressed my lips to a thin, annoyed line. “An _entire year _of boredom, at the end of which my master cheerfully announced that the reason for the doldrum was simple,” I gave a dry, bitter laugh as I recalled my utter fury at hearing the cause as Celestine listened intently. “He said that, because the warp is a reflection of our realm, it is driven to tumult due to emotion, conflict, and death on this side of the veil, which normally is everywhere, except in this system nothing interesting enough to stir the warp has ever happened.”__

____

____

“I suppose I follow the notion,” Celestine allowed, “but I fail to see the point…”

The humor faded from my face as I nestled against her again and sighed.

“A week ago, I had a dream,” I began softly, and my tone drew a concerned look from Celestine. “In it, I was back on Mandelas II at the small two-level cabin where my master had opted to reside for the duration of the study, except he wasn’t there,” I looked back up at Celestine who met my gaze curiously, “you were.”

“In the dream, I was standing outside, and there was a faint wind blowing that carried the scent of the farms beyond us, and I was wearing simple, sturdy leathers made from groxhide,” I recalled the rough texture of them, they were the same sort I’d worn during the research outing. “They felt comfortable and familiar, and I had this notion that I needed to go inside, so I did.”

“What did you find?”

“I told you,” I replied quietly. “It was you… except you had no armor, no wings… you were wearing the same sorts of leathers I was, and you were stirring some kind of stew,” I recalled the dream with such clarity, “and as I entered you looked up at me, smiled, and said, ‘welcome home, my love’.”

Celestine’s eyes widened. “Oh… Katta.”

“And I crossed to the kitchen, and you kissed me,” I continued, it felt as though the words were just pouring out of me now. “And that was it,” I shook my head and laughed bitterly, “nothing happened, you made dinner, we talked, and then went to bed, and then I woke up.”

“Katta,” Celestine laid her hand on my cheek, “why are you telling me this?”

“Because that was when I knew that I was in love with you,” I sobbed softly. “Because of a dream of a life I could never have, with a woman I loved and could never be with, on a world so far from my duty that not even the Despoiler himself could reach it.”

“We cannot forsake our oaths,” Celestine said gently.

“I know,” my fingers curled into claws, my nails dragging down Celestine’s back and earning a soft hiss of delight from her. “But I want it, and I am _ashamed _, Celestine, because of how badly I want it… because of how many mornings after that dream that I would lay in bed and imagine that life.”__

____

____

“We must be grateful for what we have, Katta,” Celestine, pulled me closer again and pressed her lips to my forehead, then my cheeks, then my lips. “We must be grateful that we found one another, across the span of years and coincidence.”

“How can I be grateful for a handful of a stolen moments?” I bit the words out angrily. “I don’t want moments, I want hours, I want days and months and years… _I want lifetimes! _”__

____

____

“And you think I do not?” Celestine asked softly. “Do you think I would not trade my wings and all of my power for a simple, short, mortal life handfasted with you?” She pressed her palm to mine, linking our fingers and drawing them up to press her lips to each one in turn. “But that is not our lot… we have been cast in greater molds than that.”

“But how many more of these moments will we have, Celly?” I felt hollowed out as I caressed her cheek, tracing the strong lines I found there. “How long until He calls you back?”

“I do not know,” Celestine admitted, “but saint or no… I shall steal each and every one that I can, every minute, or hour, or night possible.”

“No one can ever know,” I said thinly, and she nodded. “And in time… this may destroy us.”

“Mayhap it will, but I would follow you into the Eye of Terror itself,” Celestine gathered me into her arms and rolled slowly until I was laid out beneath her again. “I would lay down my life for you, my Katta.”

“And if you do, trust that I will find you again,” I replied in a low, deadly voice.

“Centuries can pass before I am called back,” She sounded bitter, it was the first time I’d ever truly heard that tone in her voice. “By then…”

“I _will _find you, Celestine,” I promised. “If I have to walk the storm and torment of the Empyrean naked and alone myself, I will find you.”__

____

____

Celestine laughed, weakly but truly, and I laughed with her as she laid atop me, her weight pressing me into the mattress pleasantly as she played with my hair and lavished me with kisses, and for a few moments we pretended that there was nothing between us. That no duties remained to call us away in the morning, and that no apocalypse awaited us in the future, and that all the world was just this room and our love.

“You are an impossible woman, Katarinya,” Celestine said with a small smile before kissing me again.

“Says the woman who has repeatedly died and come back to life,” I pointed out blithely, and she chuckled.

“How long do we have?” Celestine asked softly, and I glanced at the chrono on the wall, then smiled wanly.

“A little over ten hours til daybreak and I have to check in with Kyrilos,” I assured her. “Ten more hours to steal.”

She smiled back at me.

“Consider them stolen,” Celestine rose up, swung her legs over my hips, and straddled me. “Now how shall we use them?”

I reached out and ran my fingers up from her thigh to her generous hips, then along the curving muscle of her abdomen to the cusp of her navel.

“Make love to me.”

Celestine smiled.

“As you say, Inquisitor.”


End file.
